This chapter is dedicated to all my fellow Rentheads and Jonathan Larson. Though we Rentheads are suffering, we must stick together and ride this life obstacle out as one. Thank you, thank you so much, Jonathan Larson. May the angels lead you in. You said you were the future of musical theater... and you were right. It's a shame human greed is bringing your era, your legend to a close. Therefore, I present chapter 11, Coming Home.

Chapter 11

"Mark? Hello, Mark, what's with you?" Collins asked, waving his hand in front of Mark's face.

Mark, in a daze, blinked several times and resurfaced. "Huh? What?" He looked up. "Oh. Hi, Collins."

"You OK, man?" he asked. "You look like you got a lot on your mind."

"I… I do," Mark said sheepishly.

"About?" Collins asked.

"Maureen."

"Oh? What about her?" Collins asked.

"We, uh, we got together," Mark stammered.

Collins spit out what remained of the stoli he was drinking. "You— what?" he choked.

Mark thumped him on the back and he gasped for breath. "We got together," Mark said, his voice stronger this time. "Well, sort of. She kissed me in the car."

Collins let out a low whistle. "Wow," he said, "way to go, boy." He grinned. "So when's the wedding?"

Mark hit him on the shoulder. "Knock it off," he said defensively. "She needed help and I just happened to be there."

"I'm just playing with you, boy. Explain?" Collins asked, cocking an eyebrow in curiosity.

Mark rolled his eyes. He could already tell just how annoying Collins was going to be over the next several weeks. "All right, I'll explain," he surrendered. "We went to Jo's to get her stuff—"

"I know, man; I was there, remember?" Collins teased.

But Mark was not in the mood to be teased. "Will you shut up?" he said. "You were in the house getting the last of the stuff when this happened."

Collins nodded. "I was talking to Jo," he corrected, "but OK, I'll shut up. Go on."

"Well, we got in the car and we were waiting for you, and she burst into tears. She— she just broke down. It was kind of scary."

"I can imagine," Collins said understandingly.

"So I just… kinda took her into my arms and let her cry, and… Then you know what she asked me?"

"What?"

"She asked me if she hurt me or anything when she dumped me," Mark said flatly.

"Ooh," Collins said, pulling a pained expression. "What did you say?"

"I told her that, yeah, I was angry and hurt and upset, and that I threw myself into my work to keep my mind off it," Mark replied. Then suddenly, a loft look came over his face. "But I told her that I understand something now."

"What?"

"That I'd neglected her in working so much on my stuff," Mark said. "In trying to find my place in this world, I neglected her. I told her I was sorry."

Collins eyebrows shot up. "Wow," he said, "I'm very impressed, Mark."

Mark smiled and blushed. "So am I," he admitted. "Collins, she was scared, confused—"

"— because she was drunk, Mark," Collins interrupted him unexpectedly.

"— and I wasn't going to let her hurt herself or something," Mark finished firmly, glaring at him.

Collins smiled. "Good," he said. "I'm glad."

"Me too," Mark said, smiling and blushing again.

"Marky?" came a voice from behind them.

Mark whipped around, startled. "Maureen?" he asked, noticing she had awakened and was sitting up slowly. "Maureen," he said, and he rushed over to her, "are you OK?"

"Mm, I think I'll live," Maureen murmured.

"Can I get you anything," Mark asked, looking down at her with concern, "water or aspirin or anything?"

"Aspirin would be wonderful," Maureen said, nodding. A look of pain crossed her face. "Ow, bad idea… I've got a raging headache going on."

"I bet," Mark said, as he brought her two aspirin and a glass of water. "Promise me you'll never do something like that again, OK?"

"OK," Maureen said, "I won't, baby. Being with you can be my… my… what's the word?" She frowned as she searched for the right word. "Oh, I know. Sobriety; though I know it's gonna be hell."

"I'll be there for you every step of the way," Mark promised, smiling down at her and kissing the top of her forehead.

"Thanks, baby," Maureen said. Then she began to cry again.

"Maureen…" Mark groaned, and he put his arms around her again. "Easy, easy…"

"It's just hard, Mark," she cried. "I mean, I was with her for a long time and now… now all of that is gone. I just can't get used to it."

"Maureen, it hasn't even been 24 hours since she kicked you out, sweetie," Mark said, stroking her hair. "Of course you aren't going to be over it in that short of time." He looked her in the eye. "Stop worrying, OK? I'll take care of you."

"I know, baby," Maureen said, wrapping her arms around his. She smiled as he held her close.

A few weeks later, Jaclyn waited anxiously for Collins to pick up the phone at his flat. He sounded tired when he did. "Hello?"

"Hi, Collins," Jaclyn said.

"Hey, Baby girl," he said, sounding instantly more awake. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to call you and tell you I'm able to come home for Christmas," Jaclyn said.

"Really? That's great. I'm excited."

"Me too; it beats here anyway."

"You're flying in, right?"

"Yeah, I'm leaving on the twenty-second. That'll give me a day before Christmas to get settled in and everything."

"OK; and how long can you stay?"

"I can stay a week."

"Sounds great, Baby girl," Collins said. "I'll see you then, OK?"

"OK," Jaclyn said, smiling, "sounds great. Thanks, Collins. Tell Mark and Mo for me, will you please?"

"That shouldn't be too hard," Collins said, grinning.

"What do you mean?" Jaclyn asked suspiciously.

"You'll just have to wait and see," Collins teased her. "It's a good thing, I promise."

"Oh, my God, I think I know!" Jaclyn squealed excitedly. "Or, at least, I can guess! Why won't you tell me?"

"Why, can't you wait, like, four days?"

"Collins!" Jaclyn exclaimed, exasperated.

Collins laughed. "Calm down, Baby girl, it's OK," he said. "I'll see you when you get here, OK? Call me from the airport, I'll pick you up."

"Oh, all right, I can see I'm not going to win this," Jaclyn said grudgingly. "I'll call you when I get there."

"OK. Bye, Baby girl."

"Bye, Collins," Jaclyn said. Then she hung up, her excitement to return to the East Village in a few days mounting.

"Guess what, you guys!" Collins called, walking into the loft after Mark had thrown down the key and he'd let himself in. He found Mark and Maureen lying on the couch together and Roger sitting on the window seat.

"What?" they asked.

"Jaclyn's coming home for Christmas."

"Really?" Mark and Maureen asked eagerly. Collins noticed Roger even perked up a little.

"Yeah," he said. "She just called me. She's flying home."

"Good," Maureen said, collapsing back against Mark, who grunted. He put his arms around her flat stomach lovingly. "Maybe now I can relax."

"Or sleep through the night, maybe?" Mark teased. Maureen hit him on the leg. "Ouch, Maureen, I was just teasing. But you know it's true. Except for when she's called you, you haven't slept a full night since Jaclyn left."

"Yeah, well, I was stressed, OK?" Maureen said, and she sighed. "But she's coming back now."

"Mo, she'll only be here for, like, a week," Roger said. "Then it'll be back to the way things were."

"Who asked you?" Maureen snapped, instantly defensive. She scowled at him.

"But it's true; then she'll have to leave again, and you'll be the same way you were," Roger said.

"Roger Davis, if you say one more word, I swear, I'll beat you to a pulp," Maureen threatened him.

"Fine," Roger said, "but when she gets here, I have something for her."

"Oh, please," Maureen said, rolling her eyes. "Don't you dare try to regain something you never had."

"It's not like that, OK?" Roger snapped. "I just want to give her something I made."

"Oh, like what?" Maureen snapped, irritated. "Food? A song? God, I hope not, or she really won't ever come back."

"No, nothing like that," Roger said, swallowing the angry lump in his throat. "You'll see."

"Famous last words," Collins teased.

OK, so I decided to end this chapter here. It isn't exactly Jaclyn coming home yet, but I think I'm going to make that into two parts. I apologize for not getting it up before my busy honor festival weekend. But today I didn't have school, so I spent a lot of time writing it, wanting to update. The entire thing I've written today (and before this weekend) is actually nearly 20 pages long; not kidding. It was a hard decision, figuring out where to end this chapter. I wanted to end it on a high note, instead of a low one. Maybe that's because I'm in a low mood. I dunno.

Many of you may already know that Rent is ending on June 1, 2008. Honestly, when I read Renthead621's author note at the beginning of one of her updated chapters last night (at 1:30 A.M. Eastern Standard Time), I thought it was a joke. But I knew she wouldn't lie to anyone about something like this, especially fellow Rentheads. How I made it through my entire weekend of honor choir stuff without knowing, I don't know; but it was probably a good thing I didn't know. If I had, I wouldn't have been able to concentrate one bit and it wouldn't have turned out nearly as well as it did. I've started realizing it's true because of all the things on the Internet I've seen about it, especially at the video blog by Jeffrey Seller, telling of its closing. I think that's what made me realize the most that it was all real.

To me, this makes me feel almost like an 'unofficial' Renthead, since I will never be able to see it onstage at the Nederlander Theatre. I'm begging and begging and begging desperately to my parents (mainly my dad) to get me plane and Rent tickets for graduation (I graduate six days before the show ends forever.) I don't know if it'll happen, but until it does or doesn't, I'm gonna be hoping and hoping and hoping.

I'm sure, in the next few weeks, I'll throw myself into my life (and whatever I'm doing) to take my mind off of it. But every time I listen to the OMPS or the OBCR, my mind goes back to it. Being on this site, seeing as the only things I read these days are Rent fan fics, takes me back to it. But what to do? Eventually, this all will pass and we will all go on living our lives. It's like when there's a death in the family; eventually, the grieving lessens, and though you go your whole life missing them, it becomes easier to live without them, because you have to.

OK, so I didn't mean to preach, but my author note just ended up that way. Jeez, this could be an entire new chapter in itself. Sorry. When I'm in a mourning mood, I rant constantly. I hope you understand. Please don't forget to review. Especially at this particular time in my life (with school and my job and everything on top of Rent closing), I desperately need reviews, preferably good. Be nice. Thanks. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Until next time, lots of love,

Renthead07